


Now Departing (End of the Line)

by General_Zargon



Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen, Ghost Train, Mythology References, Short Story, Urban Fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-02
Updated: 2019-08-02
Packaged: 2020-07-29 01:14:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20073706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/General_Zargon/pseuds/General_Zargon
Summary: On a ghost train bound for an unknown destination, three passengers must join forces to escape or risk losing everything.





	Now Departing (End of the Line)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [teawater](https://archiveofourown.org/users/teawater/gifts).

> Sorry it took me so long to get your commission done! I hope you enjoy this, please let me know if you want anything changed. :)

The subway station was unnaturally silent and deserted, the emptiness making the spacious building seem positively cavernous. The absence of other noise caused the rush of blood through my ears to be both thundering and oddly muted as I sat on one of the stiff metal benches lining the platform. The clock on the wall said that it was 2:53 AM., which could have explained the lack of anyone else around me, except the city of Helhain, Massachusetts had a thriving nightlife and sizable nocturnal population, so it was strange that I was the only one in the station. This could have just been a slow time for commuters, I thought in an effort to ignore the strangeness, but somehow I doubted it.

I shuddered, a sharp chill trailing down slow fingers down my spine causing goosebumps to rise on my arms. I rubbed them briskly in an effort to banish the cold feeling, only to freeze mid-motion when I felt something crinkle in one of my hands. I look down, surprised to find that I was holding a piece of paper. I frowned in puzzlement, momentarily forgetting the uneasiness of a minute ago as I raised the hand so I could get a closer look. A second’s inspection revealed that I was holding a train ticket. Why hadn’t I noticed it before? I must have bought it sometime after getting to the station, but why couldn’t I remember it? Come to think of it, how long had I been sitting there? It didn’t feel like it had been that long since I’d sat down, but the ticket booth was closed and there wasn’t an automated machine anywhere in the station where I could have purchased the ticket.

An uneasy feeling grew in the back of my mind; why couldn’t I remember? Even if I’d just been wandering around and bought the ticket on automatic, I must have at least _noticed_ doing it, if only because I would have had to take out my wallet to pay for it. Trying to think back only got me a painful throbbing behind my eyes and confirmation that I could not for the life of me recall buying the ticket I was holding. The intercom let out a loud _beep_ and I jumped, startled out of my thoughts, the faint worry in my mind slipping away like sand through my fingers as a generic voice droned.

“_Train 134 is now arriving. All passengers please have your tickets ready. Train 134 is now arriving._”

Barely a second after the last word faded, a loud rumbling sound echoed through the tunnel like a gigantic beast’s growl. I heard the clacking and chugging of the train approaching, and I unconsciously straightened up as the source of the noise got closer and closer. Looking down at the ticket in my hand, I saw that it was for the arriving train, and why hadn’t I noticed that while examining the ticket before? I should have seen something when I’d looked at it earlier, the black lines on the paper weren’t that small!

The rumbling growl escalated into a snarl, and I looked up, distracted by the beam of light I could see shining through the darkness of the subway tunnel and getting closer by the second. I couldn’t make out anything other than the brightness of the train’s single headlight, but I still got to my feet, tennis shoes squeaking against the marble floor as I shifted to grab the bag next to me. Slinging the slightly-battered duffle over my shoulder, I turned back to the tracks just as the train whistle blew a long, howling note and the machine itself came into view.

Instead of one of the sleek, stream-lined models favored by modern times, a beast of black iron straight from the time of coal-powered locomotion roared out of the passageway, coming to a stop at the platform with a bone-rattling groan. Really, my thoughts didn’t do it justice. Calling this train a mere beast was an understatement…truly, the machine before him was nothing short of a _monster_. Clouds of steam hissed from the machine’s vents as I stood there gaping in awe until the loud rattle of the door opening jolted me back to reality. The low _wooo wooo_ of the train’s whistle sent chills running down my spine as I boarded the train, the uncomfortable feeling in the back of my mind returning with a vengeance as my legs moved without conscious thought.

Something was off, something important, but I couldn’t figure out what it was and then I was standing inside the train and all thought fled my mind. The interior of the train car was like something out of an Agatha Christie novel, all warm colors and wood paneling in sharp contrast to the chrome and steel favored by other subway trains. The chandeliers used in place of harsh fluorescent lighting cast rippling shadows on the walls and in darkened corners, bits of darkness moving in unexpected ways out of the corner of my eye.

Cushioned benches upholstered in bright red fabric lined the sides of the train car, and I distantly thought that they looked more like loveseats than train seating. I must have stood there for almost a minute looking around before the door slammed shut behind me. I jumped, feeling my face warm in embarrassment as I hurried to take a seat on the nearest bench. Luckily neither of the other two passengers so much as glanced at me, but I still felt a little awkward as I settled in, keeping my eyes down and trying to look as small as possible. Not hard to do, considering that at my full height I was barely five foot and change.

One was sitting across the aisle and to the left of me; a woman that towered over me even sitting down and built like a brick shithouse. Muscular and curvaceous, she had dark skin, bright green eyes, and curly blonde hair down to her shoulders. Her face was rather masculine, sporting a strong jaw and somewhat square face; not feminine but still attractive in its own way. Camouflage-patterned khakis hugged her legs, and her feet were clad in black sneakers without a heel in sight. Judging by the shape of her biceps, exposed by the t-shirt she was wearing and her crossed arms, she could probably bench-press a linebacker one-handed and the bored look on her face said she was willing to try. I thought that standing up her head would come within an inch or two of touching the roof of the train and felt a sting of envy. I knew being tall wasn’t all it was cracked up to be, but I was a bit sensitive about my height, especially when it led to me being carded every time I tried to buy R-rated DVDs. Having it thrown in my face by being in the presence of tall people sucked, I thought, thankfully managing to keep the grumbling that wanted to emerge trapped behind my teeth. Even though the woman was wearing headphones, I really didn’t want to run the risk of her hearing and getting offended.

Best to move on, I decided, switching my gaze to the only other passenger and then barely repressing a wince when I got a look at them. They were sitting across from the woman on the same wall of benches that I was, and it only took one glance at the oddly shiny skin and prism-like hair to know that they were a Faeborn. Gender was always a tricky concept with them since they didn’t define themselves as just male or female, and I could never come up with a way to ask that didn’t end with me sounding like an asshole. There was always guessing, but since there all kinds of combinations and it was impossible to tell by appearance which a Faeborn was, you ran the risk of horribly offending them and getting cursed.

Aside from the shiny skin, the Faeborn’s prism hair seemed to favor warm colors, the majority of the strands reflecting light in shades of red, orange, and yellow. With only minute flecks of blue and purple scattered throughout, the luxurious mane seemed almost like a halo of fire framing the Faeborn’s face, which was in a category of beauty all its own. Opalescent eyes peered out of smooth, flawless skin that sparkled like stardust when the light hit it just right, full lips the color of rose quartz rested beneath a nose that could only be described as ‘perfect’. What was that phrase used to describe Victorian porcelain dolls? Oh yes, ‘Uncanny Valley’. That was what the Faeborn’s face reminded me of, both alluring and disturbing in equal measure. I turned my attention to the Faeborn’s clothes; they didn’t make me feel like my skin was trying to crawl away if I looked at them too long…though they did confuse me a bit.

The Faeborn’s clothes were gauzy and flowing, crystals sewn in here and there that glittered at the slightest movement, the fall of the fabric so loose and ever-changing that it was hard to tell what they were supposed to be. One moment the outfit looked like a shirt and pants, the next it was a dress, and then the whole thing changed to a shirt-and-skirt combo. Trying to figure it out made my head hurt exactly like trying to remember when I’d got my train ticket had, so I stopped. The colors of the fabric brought to mind a brilliant sunset, vibrant yellow fading to coppery orange and then down to rose pink. That, at least, had the good grace to stay constant.

The train whistle blew again, this time sounding like wind screaming through a mountain pass, and I faintly heard the voice of the intercom drone as I looked over my fellow passengers.

“_Train 134 is now departing for…Train 134 is now departing for…_”

I frowned, wondering why I couldn’t hear the train’s destination. Every word but that came through the walls of the train clearly enough, if slightly muffled, for all that the volume of the announcement didn’t change. Warning bells started ringing in the back of my mind, but even as I tried to listen to them, it didn’t matter. The train lurched forward as I was moving to stand up, sending me tumbling back into my seat and knocking the breath from my lungs. I groaned and gasped at the same time, which felt really weird, believe me. Something like resignation came over me, and I didn’t attempt to move again as the train picked up speed.

Still, at least I wasn’t alone on this mysterious train ride…although all that meant was that my only company was a woman who looked like she could break me in half without blinking and a person that I got a headache if I looked at too long. Yeah, this was going to be a fun trip, I held in a sigh, leaning back in my seat and trying to get comfortable.

With nothing else to do and an uncomfortable silence weighing on my shoulders, I turned my head to stare at the darkness outside the window. Minutes passed, and my thoughts drifted, lulled into a daze by the movement of the train. A feeling of unease loomed over me, my stomach twisting uncomfortably as I thought about all the things I didn’t know, all the pieces missing from the puzzle of why I was on this train and why I couldn’t remember entering the station. So many things didn’t make sense, and the hairs on the back of my neck hadn’t gone down since the train whistle blew.

To think, I’d been in a pretty good mood when I stepped out the door that morning, I sighed. The sun had been shining, birds were singing, and it had been warm enough that I’d been able to get away with leaving the house without a coat. That turned out to be the high note of the day, because things went straight downhill from there. My good mood hadn’t lasted long, barely an hour afterwards in fact. It wasn’t because of anything big, no, it was a bunch of little things happening one after another that grabbed, stuffed in a trunk, drove to an unknown location, and killed my good day.

All the stress came crashing down on me at once after I got a certain text message and it felt like someone dropped a mountain on my back. I certainly felt like tons of rock was pressing me flat against the ground like I was a pancake when it happened, and it didn’t get any better after that. Everything after the shock of that message hitting me was a blur, a mish-mash of color and sensation blended together until I’d snapped out of it to find myself sitting on that bench in the station. Every time I tried to untangle the knot of memories into something coherent the threads slipped away.

Sighing and watching my breath fog up the window, I was brought out of my thoughts when a deep voice suddenly cursed, breaking the silence filling the train car. “Damn it!” The tall woman growled, looking down at the Ipod in her hand and glaring like it had personally wronged her.

“Something wrong?” It took a second for me to realize that I was the one who’d spoken, the words escaping my lips before I could think to stop them. Reflexively I cringed, ducking my head down between my shoulders as the woman looked over at me, the look in her eyes one of someone contemplating murder.

“The battery died.” The woman _growled_, actually growled like some kind of great cat, brandishing the music device like it was a sword. I shrank back, mentally whimpering and wondering why I had to open my big mouth, before the Faeborn snorted, thankfully drawing the dark woman’s attention.

“What’s the big deal? Just charge it.” They said, the ‘duh’ in their voice so thick it could have been cut with a knife.

“With _what_? I don’t see an outlet anywhere around here, do you?” The woman responded in the exact same tone.

Even though they only exchanged two sentences, sparks were already beginning to fly between the woman and the Faeborn, the pair snapping at each other. I felt like I was watching a tennis match, listening to the caustic retorts being volleyed back and forth. I was both exceptionally relieved that neither seemed to remember that I was the one to speak up and start this whole thing and incredibly guilty because, well, I started the whole thing. Honestly, I was torn about whether to try and break up the brewing argument or just try to blend in with the furniture and wait for it to die down.

In the end my conscience wins out, and I wait for a brief lull in the, ahem, pointed discussion before speaking, blurting out the first thing that came to mind, “Does anyone know where this train is going? My ticket doesn’t say, and I couldn’t hear the announcement…” trailing off when the woman and Faeborn turned identical looks on me, the kind that plainly said they thought I was an idiot. Whatever, I shrank back, sure it was a stupid question but at least the argument was stalled and no one looked like they were about to commit murder anymore, so I was counting it as a win.

“Isn’t it obvious?” The dark woman rolled her eyes, “This is the train to – to…” she faltered mid-sentence, frowning in confusion. Her brow furrowed in thought, a gleam of suspicion appearing in her eyes as she looked around, reaching into her pocket and pulling out a piece of paper that had to be her own ticket.

The Faeborn snorted, “What, did you forget already?” they mocked lightly, somehow looking down their nose at the woman while sitting down, which was impressive considering the dark woman was taller than them sitting or standing.

“Well, do you know?” I cut in, stopping the argument before it could start brewing, and watched as the Faeborn opened their mouth, the picture of smug, only to freeze in place a moment later. Their hand dove into the handbag that I just now noticed sitting next to them and pulled out a ticket identical to the ones the dark woman and I had. All of us examined our tickets, but once again I noticed that the destination wasn’t written anywhere on mine. Judging from the sharp hisses coming from my fellow passengers, theirs were the same way but they were just now realizing it.

“What is going on here?” The dark woman demanded, unknowingly echoing both my earlier and current thoughts. She scowled, baring her teeth like a panther just itching for something to sink its fangs into. The Faeborn was equally displeased, their prism hair reflecting a deeper red as their lips pursed in annoyance, eyes practically burning a hole through the paper they held.

“I have no idea,” the Faeborn answered, looking between the dark woman and I, a suspicious glint in their eyes, “My ticket doesn’t say where this train is going, but I’m sure I knew where it was going when I boarded, like the destination was _obvious_.” They explained, and that sounded so much like what I’d experienced that for a moment I was stunned.

“Yeah, that sounds about right,” the dark woman admitted, angry expression changing to a pensive one.

I felt compelled to speak up then, “It was a little different for me…I felt like something was strange when I noticed the station was empty and I couldn’t remember buying a ticket, but it all seemed so unimportant that I didn’t think about it too hard. Then I heard the departure announcement clearly except for the destination and all the weird feelings I had seemed to come rushing back, so I had to ask if it was the same for you.”

The train car went completely quiet, the passengers exchanging glances as the knowledge that something was really wrong sank in. The silence continued for several moments before the Faeborn spoke, sounding oddly subdued, “Well then, I suppose if we’re all stuck on this train for Queens’ know how long,” they referred to the Queens of the Fae, rulers of the Faerie Lands, equals to the Kings of the Fae and nearly goddesses in their own right, “then I suppose the first order of business is to introduce ourselves. I am Zhivezhi Avari.” They inclined their head in greeting, tucking a lock of prism hair behind one pointed ear.

Seeming to take the introduction as the truce-offering that it was, the dark woman sighed, nodding back as she said, “Name’s Necahual, just call me Nes.”

In the face of these hard to pronounce names and already resigning myself to mispronouncing Zhivezhi’s at least twice, I could only mutter, “Adryan,” before looking up and briefly meeting each of their gazes as I added, “Nice to meet you,” tension successfully dissipated, I relaxed. Nes and Zhivezhi were giving me the same kind of onceover I’d given them so I sat back and let them; I knew what they’d see. I wasn’t ugly, but I wasn’t what you’d call pretty either. I liked to think I was on the better-looking side of average, but I really wasn’t a notable person, bland clothes and unimpressive height aside. Judging by the faintly chagrined looks that flashed across their faces, they agreed with that assessment.

To take our minds off the awkwardness trying to descend, I shrugged and asked, “Okay, so what’s the last thing you remember before getting on this train? Was there anything odd, like you suddenly found yourself sitting on a bench in the station with no memory of going there?” I related how I’d found myself in the train station and my somewhat-patchy memories of events before that, seeing the spark of recognition in Nes and Zhivezhi’s eyes. Apparently my story rang a bell.

After a moment of hesitation, Nes spoke, “Honestly, before I found myself standing on the platform I was having a pretty rough day. A lot of little annoyances happening one after another, you know how it goes, and it was just really, really frustrating. I guess I was kind of seeing red for awhile there, and by the time I took a deep breath and calmed down, I found myself in a deserted station holding a ticket so I figured, might as well.”

There was a moment of silence, then Zhivezhi said shortly, “Trade deal fell through, car broke down, repairs will cost hundreds, goblins got into the plumbing of my apartment building, and I just learned that my sibling’s potential life-partner is cheating on them.”

…On second thought, maybe I didn’t have it that bad. The look on Nes’s face revealed she was thinking the same thing. Little annoyances or not, the things Zhivezhi listed were just terrible, and not just because of the goblins in the plumbing, nasty creatures though they are. I think both of us felt a stirring of sympathy for the Faeborn right then, but were both tactful enough not to mention it beyond acknowledging sounds. Aside from a difference in scale, it seemed that Zhivezhi’s story was more or less the same: a day of frustration and anger and just plain bad luck ending in finding themselves on a subway platform with a ticket in hand.

That was the connection, but what did it mean? I had no clue, but something about it sent chills down my spine, and somehow I thought that the tunnel outside the window looked darker. The way Nes’s eyes darted around told me that she noticed the same thing, and Zhivezhi may has well been carved from marble, they were so tense. There were no lights outside, I noticed, not like there should be if the train was going through a tunnel. Alarm bells were ringing in my mind. Something was _wrong_.

I voiced that thought, and my fellow passengers agreed. We started looking around for any clues as to what was happening, but despite how ornate the car was there was surprisingly little to be found. The whole place was unnaturally clean; there wasn’t even a single French fry growing mold in an obscure corner. If I hadn’t already known that something wasn’t right, that would have tipped me off. No matter how good a cleaning service is, there’s always _something_ that gets missed…even if that something wasn’t always physical.

Almost as soon as I finished the thought Nes’s nose twitched and she spoke, “Magic here, a lot of it, more than just leftover traces from previous passengers. Subtle at first so I didn’t notice, but now that I’m searching it’s obvious.” She sneezed, grimacing as she explained, “There are layers: first layer is the subtle one, keeps everything beneath hidden, next one is where the strong magic that keeps people from knowing that something is off is, one after that smells rotten, like malice and vengeance and greed.”

That did _not_ sound good, I thought, shivering and briskly rubbing my upper arms in an attempt to calm the goosebumps that rose in response. Zhivezhi evidently agreed, shaking their head, prism-hair shimmering beneath the lights and casting fire-like shadows on the wall. “The aura of this place is off. At first glance it appears to be a chaotic jumble, mimicking the feeling of other trains and places where crowds of people pass through regularly, but a longer look reveals that it is exactly that: an imitation.”

I nodded, thinking aloud, “Right, so something went through a lot of trouble to make this train look like a normal train and prevent anyone who comes aboard from realizing that it’s not, but why? And most importantly, how can we get off?” Because the instinctive part of my mind was screaming that I _really_ didn’t want to know where this supernatural - what else could it be? – train was heading.

“Easy answer is it’s a trap, like those stories about phantom houses and will o’ wisps luring unwary travelers to their deaths.” Nes grunted, nostrils flaring, and for a moment I thought I saw her eyes change to a feline’s slitted gold.

Shrugging it off in favor of more important things to worry about, I hummed in agreement, peering out of the nearest window to try and spot anything amiss, only to see nothing but darkness no matter how much I strained my eyes. No flickers, no patches that seemed lighter than others, just a uniform blackness. I voiced the observation, along with a note that none of us were reflected in the windows despite there being light inside the train car. The combination of growls and hisses behind me said that that was not a good sign. Considering the situation and the fact that none of us were vampires, I was inclined to agree.

“Let us think, if this truly is a trap, what kind is it? Is it targeted or random? Did it choose us specifically or was it just bad luck?” Zhivezhi questioned.

“Does it matter?” I wondered, “Either way we need to get out before this train gets wherever it’s going.”

“What makes you say that?” Nes raised an eyebrow.

“Common sense.” I responded, “Nothing’s happened to us yet and the train’s moving, so it’s taking us somewhere where something _will_ happen, and I don’t want to find out what that something is. So, let’s think: phantom trains are rare, but not unheard of, so what do we know about them in general?” I asked, clapping my hands briskly.

They exchanged glances, and then Nes slowly spoke, a thoughtful expression on her face, “If I remember my lore right, ghost vehicles usually form after some kind of accident, such as train derailments, bus crashes and such…the specifics seem to vary depending on the circumstances, as do the methods of escape. That makes knowing the history of the train very important. Which station did you get on board at and do you remember any legends featuring trains that originated there or any major accidents that might have occurred?”

I couldn’t recall any from the top of my head, but the station question was easy enough to answer. Zhivezhi and I responded at the same time and promptly froze in shock, because our answers were the same, which was impossible. I definitely would have remembered if Zhivezhi had been anywhere near that platform! A moment of dumbfounded silence later, we got an even greater shock when Nes informed us in a dangerously low tone that she’d boarded from the same platform, the _exact_ same one. The descriptions matched, right down to the style of the clock on the wall, the empty ticket booth and uncomfortable benches.

None of us had caught so much as a glimpse of the others.

I sighed, scrubbing the heels of my hands against my eyes as I mumbled, “Right, so this phantom train might be stronger than normal if it can block all our senses so thoroughly that we were affected before we even got on the train…”

“Or the train pulled us from different moments in time,” Nes suggested, grimacing and revealing sharper-than-human teeth for a second before they disappeared behind her lips. Doing that would take a massive amount of power, so I could understand why she didn’t want that to be the reason. Barring the power requirements, affecting time was also risky as hell, if you’ll pardon my language. There were _classes _taught about the consequences of botched time-spells, most of which could only be described as grisly, and that’s just the ones people knew about. To pull off something like this so smoothly, if it was indeed time-manipulation…I shuddered, my uneasiness transforming into actual terror.

“Hope for the best, plan for the worst,” Zhivezhi suddenly spoke, giving both Nes and I stern looks, “Work on the assumption of sense-blocking for now – that, at least, we can do something about.”

Nes and I had to admit that that was true. If the ghost train we were on had the power to bend time, we were pretty much screwed. Best to go with the less hopeless option, I decided. “Is anyone carrying any protection charms?” I wondered, taking a second to curse my past self for leaving the majority of mine at home. Maybe that was why my day had been so terrible? Had some sort of bad luck curse latched onto me? Or maybe a passing spirit decided to make trouble and I was just the unlucky person who got hit with the results? Thinking about it that way, it really made me want to either cry or hit something, preferably both at the same time.

Protection charms were just that, small trinkets will protection spells attached to them, and there were a wide variety of them on the market. There were ever-popular general protection charms, such as those that protected against bad luck or danger (usually by means of a strong feeling that you shouldn’t go down that alley, short-cut to work or not), and then there were the specific ones that protected against car accidents. There was always a demand for them and all sorts of objects could be enchanted, though the quality varied. Some materials just took to the magic better than others. For example, string-bracelets were a common medium, inexpensive and easy to make but the spell vanished as the string frayed and came apart so they had to be renewed frequently, which could actually be more expensive in the long run.

In answer to my question both Zhivezhi and Nes grimaced, shaking their heads. I sighed, because of course that would be too much to hope for. “Wonderful,” I grumbled, “all I have on me is a sachet to help clear my mind and help me focus, so unless one of you can do something with that…?” Pulling the scented packet out of my pocket, I raised an eyebrow questioningly.

“I…might be able to use that, if the only goal is to get out of the train?” Nes said, squinting dubiously at the floral-patterned sachet. I pointedly looked away, not about to admit that my sister had made it for me during one of her productive phases and anyway, the important thing was it worked.

“Getting out of the train _alive_ and in one piece, preferably,” Zhivezhi chimed in, voice drier than the desert as they looked at the chandelier above with the kind of chilling calculation that made me want to run and hide; I might not have wanted to know what they were thinking of, but Nes just looked curious. Disturbed, I focused on searching through my pockets for anything I might have missed. Nope, just the sachet, I grimaced.

Putting aside her curiosity, the dark woman’s face turned thoughtful, one foot tapping as her gaze turned pensive. “Faeborn can trace flows of energy, can’t they? And by that I mean can _you_ do that?” She asked, voicing each word carefully. When Zhivezhi nodded, their own expression turning thoughtful, she continued, “If you find a strand that leads somewhere safe and off this train, with the sachet to help me focus I should be able to transport all of us out. It’ll be a bit of a bumpy ride and rough landing, but we should have our lives and all of our limbs attached at the end of it.”

“Works for me!” I announced, shrugging and handing over the sachet that was an unexpectedly important part of our escape plan. It looked almost hilariously small in Nes’s large hand, the pouch bright against her dark skin, but our escape hinged on it doing what it was supposed to. Privately, I vowed to never make fun of my sister’s hedge-witch ventures again.

Finally hashing out a plan, we got to work, though I mostly just stood around waited nervously, watching as what looked like auroras spun from Zhivezhi’s palms and painted the air a myriad of colorful hues as Nes folded her hands, sachet between her palms and eyes closed as she murmured words in an ancient tongue. Each syllable rang through me like a funeral bell, and I shuddered, trying to ignore the way the train car seemed darker, the surroundings taking on a hazy quality like I was looking through a layer of smoke.

I did as previously told, linking my arms with one each of my companions’ so we formed a short chain, gripping tight enough to leave bruises on even Nes’s powerfully muscled arm so there was no chance of us getting separated. Zhivezhi’s warnings about breaking contact mid-transit had been received loud and clear.

The haze got darker. I could barely see anything now; the train car was gone, and I could only make out the bare outlines of Nes and Zhivezhi right next to me. It was like gravity suddenly ceased to exist and I was floating. There was no up or down, left or right. All physical sensation was muted, like I was wrapped in a thick layer of cotton I could barely even feel Nes and Zhivezhi’s arms hooked through mine.

Time seemed to drag on as first sight, then feeling, hearing and smell vanished, leaving me in a darkened limbo. My mind kept trying to tell me I was holding empty air, that there was nothing in my hands, but I refused to let go of what I was clutching, whether I could feel it or not. I’d never been in one of those sensory deprivation tanks before, but I imagine this is what it felt like cranked up a few too many notches. I tried to do those meditative deep breathing exercises my mother taught me, only to suddenly register the burning feeling in my lungs – I couldn’t breathe!

Now, as anyone who’s ever stayed underwater for too long knows, a person’s first instinct would be to open your mouth and take in more air. However, Nes had informed me that this was the last thing I should do, so instead I kept my lips firmly closed and my arms right where they were while internally I was screaming and flailing in panic. Since I couldn’t see, there was no way to tell if dark spots were dancing in front of my eyes or not. They probably were, I was feeling a little light-headed, but before I could start drowning in panic, the scenery changed.

One moment there was a spark of light in the darkness, the next second _whoosh_! I could suddenly see again, fresh air filling my lungs as I gasped, my stomach lurching like I was in free-fall. Zhivezhi and Nes were on either side of me again, my hands locked securely around their wrists, and a sudden fierce wind tugged at our clothes and hair as we were swept up in a whirlwind.

This must be how Harry Potter felt the first time he used a port-key, the distant part of my mind not occupied with shrieking in terror and excitement thought. Then the sudden changes in direction started and I felt like I was on the most intense rollercoaster in the history.

(I wasn’t a fan of the thrill rides on a good day, just thinking about getting on one made me nauseous. Add in magic and twists that shouldn’t be physically possible? _Grk_.)

Feeling like I was about to throw up food I’d eaten a week ago, I was beyond grateful when, somehow, I was able to hear Nes when she shouted. “_Let go now!_”

In one smooth motion like we’d done it a hundred times, we released our hold on the others at the same time, drifting out of the tempest we’d been flying in. Faintly, just for a second, I saw windows appear behind Zhivezhi and Nes, each showing a train station platform. The platforms were different than the ones we’d boarded the train from, modern and crowded, but as we were all sucked through our windows, I felt relieved. Different was good, different meant that our plan worked.

A feeling of intense vertigo and sensation of being stretched like a piece of spaghetti hit me simultaneously, and the moment my back hit something hard I blacked out.

By the time I got through all the physical, mental and spiritual health checks – which I passed with flying colors, much to my surprise – I was exhausted. I filed a brief report about the ghost train with the Spectral Investigation Bureau, the organization in charge of looking into reports of spiritual activity, and was told they’d contact me in two to three days with any follow-up questions and not to leave town.

Worried as I was about Nes and Zhivezhi, the investigators promised to look into it and let me know if they made it out safely, and I knew that that was the best I could hope for.

I never expected that they’d track me down first.

Opening the front door four days after that eerie and terrifying encounter with the ghost train and finding Nes and Zhivezhi both standing on the porch was a huge surprise, but a good one. I’m not ashamed to admit that my eyes got a little misty as we smiled at each other.

(As it turned out, the ghost train hadn’t pulled us from different points in time but from different _places_. Nes had been grabbed from three towns over and Zhivezhi from one state away; we only thought we’d been grabbed from the same station because the details matched up and it took some time for Nes and Zhivezhi to track me down. Apparently nearly dying together was a bonding experience, and I was only now finding out about that, I thought in amusement.

We all received a message from the SIB a few days later with a brief summary about the ghost train: built in a certain year, slated to be decommissioned after thirteen years of operation, the conductor who would have lost it all hijacking the train and a carload of passengers in protest, only to derail and cause everyone on board to perish.

Long story short, we were _damn_ lucky to have gotten away when we did. Both Nes and Zhivezhi agreed with me when I voiced that thought.)

Later, much later, out of idle curiosity I asked Nes how she’d managed to get us off the train. Her attention focused on the Fruit Ninja game she was playing against Zhivezhi she responded absently, “I’m one of the mortal daughters of Tezcatlipoca, one of the Aztec gods. That comes with some perks.”

Zhivezhi shrugged, quickly swiping a finger across the screen and cutting a watermelon in half as they added, “A god associated with divination. It is no surprise you were able to follow the energy trail I found so easily.”

Nes grunted, killing a pineapple and three apples with one strike. “It wasn’t that hard, especially since it was so clear. How’d you pull that off?”

“I am born of the Autumnal Court, such a thing was child’s play.” Zhivezhi simultaneously boasted and brushed aside.

....Okay then. Pulling out my own tablet, I joined in the game. I might not have some great mystical bloodline, but when it came to Fruit Ninja I _ruled_.


End file.
